


Invisible Ink

by by_nina



Series: Royai Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, F/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/by_nina/pseuds/by_nina
Summary: “I like socializing with you here, Sir,” she says after a short silence. “It’s much easier to take care of you. I don’t even have to drive you home.” Day 1 - Letter for Royai Week 2020.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: Royai Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779925
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Invisible Ink

Roy Mustang isn’t usually like this.

Somehow, he has gone out of his way to visit Madame Christmas’ in Central, a two-hour drive away from East City where his night out could have been spent in friendlier, if more rambunctious company. He’s had very few chances to come by since his promotion to colonel, his reasons normally being either an urgent assignment with Madame or the girls, or extremely personal matters that he would rather not deal with around his colleagues, not even Hughes.

Indeed, there is nothing normal about this trip. Not in his insistence to be left alone, not in his choice of a different, stronger rum—certainly not in the desperate hope that he could just drown in it and _forget_. High ranking officials do _not_ run to another city and drink away their feelings for their subordinates. And yet by two in the morning, Roy is still wide awake in spite of his throbbing head and achingly tired body. He is now the only customer left in the bar, and he curses the half-empty bottle in front of him for leaving him more miserable than he was before.

Roy wants to believe that he is more rational than this. He had grown up next to Riza, has seen her in nearly every way—little sister, master’s daughter, comrade, confidante. To see her as anything closer to him than these was at one point unthinkable, and now it’s nothing short of forbidden. But he _has_ let her get closer, kept her by his side through every important moment and every little joy he could still find in the world—and before he knew it, he wanted her more than anything he has ever had, would ever have, could _never_ have.

Perhaps he isn’t so rational after all.

It isn’t as if Roy hasn’t tried to walk away. His feelings would be a burden on her just as much as they are an obstacle on his way to the top of the military. He’s tried everything by now, from going on actual dates to spending as little time alone with her as possible, both at work and outside of it. But she’s worked her way so deeply into his being that she seems to have followed him even here, where he doesn’t want her to be, in the damned bottle that was supposed to be his last resort—

Here, where _he_ is, walking through the door of the bar.

It takes a great effort to look over his shoulder, but he would recognize her anywhere, even through his hazy, drunken vision—even out of uniform, as she is now, and _god, she is beautiful._

“I’m sorry for dropping by so late, Madame Christmas,” he hears her say. “I know you must be closing up at this time.”

“Any friend of Roy’s is welcome here anytime.” Madame Christmas’ husky voice has only the slightest hint of a chuckle. “I don’t think he’ll be much of a host right now, but as long as he’s still awake, I think he’ll hear you just fine.”

Roy automatically raises his hand. “I hear you.” His voice is surprisingly more stable than he thought it would be at this point. “I’m good.”

He slips away for a moment, not quite aware of what happens next until Riza has joined him at the bar. She reaches for a glass on the other side, then for his rum, and she pours out just enough to swirl the drink around the bottom of her glass.

“Did Madame Christmas say something just now?” he says.

“Just that you should call for her when you’re done,” says Riza. “She thinks you’re in no condition to close up the bar.”

Roy grins despite himself. “Lieutenant, what are you doing here in Central?”

“I came with Rebecca. She wanted to go somewhere different tonight and basically dragged me here. Now that she’s found some company, I’m flying the rest of the night solo.”

“Are you driving yourself home?” Suddenly, there’s more strength in his arm than there has been in the rest of him for the past few hours, enough to reach out for her drink, but not quite enough to do anything more than brush it with his fingers. “You shouldn’t—you should just stay here, Lieutenant—”

“I’ll be fine, Colonel, thank you.” Roy is thankful for her interruption, realizing just now that he’d invited her to stay in his home. Nonetheless, she puts down the glass. “But I did stop by here to make sure you were all right.”

He tells himself that the warmth growing somewhere in his chest is a delayed side effect of drunkenness. “What do you mean?”

“Before I left with Rebecca, I heard from Breda that you weren’t joining them tonight. I knew you’d be here, but you never told me anything was up. Is there anything I should know about?”

Roy knows that she means work—after all, she is privy to the espionage work that takes place under Madame Christmas, to the real nature of the dates he often goes on. But if he were any further gone, he would have told her the truth right then and there. He would have told her that it’s _her_ fault he is here, that _she_ is the problem, that she shouldn’t have walked through the door and into his personal space because now he doesn’t want her to ever leave. Thankfully, Roy still has his wits and his charm about him.

“Fire spreads quickly, Lieutenant,” he says. “It happened to go in this direction tonight. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He knows her too well to think that she believes him, but whether or not she does, he’s made her laugh. It puts him in a daze, hits him more strongly than any kind of alcohol—far too strongly, with every part of him beginning to shut down even as he fights his hardest to stay awake, to hold on to this moment with her.

“I like socializing with you here, Sir,” she says after a short silence. “It’s much easier to take care of you. I don’t even have to drive you home.”

Roy laughs even though he can hardly keep his eyes focused now. There isn’t any light left in the room except for an old flickering lantern that sits behind the bar. The way it illuminates Riza’s face almost makes her glisten, like the lines of a letter written in invisible ink. A secret made visible only by the heat of a flame. Only because of _her_.

He knows now that he has seen her that way for years.

“Lieutenant.”

“Sir?”

Roy hopes he isn’t imagining that she has come closer.

“Please don’t go.”

He slumps forward numbly with a dull thud, head and shoulders. He doesn’t mean to leave it there, but he has no energy left to say “until I’ve passed out”. He thinks that he already has until he hears her voice one last time.

“I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
